The Journey
by michiel
Summary: 07 Movierverse A group of young Autobots struggle to survive after a battle on a strange planet. When they recieve Optimus Primes message they try to get to Earth. Will they make it? OCcentric with some familiar faces later on. Please r&r.


Betaed by Goldendreams257 (Thanx!)

Prologue – Baptism of fire

The ground shook under the impact of the missiles. Thunderbolt lay flat on his abdomen and covered his head with his arms. The crest of the hill he was hiding behind protected him from the worst effects of the nearby detonations while keeping him out of sight. When there was a break in the seemingly never-ending staccato of explosions, he raised his head to look around carefully. There was nothing on this Primus forsaken planet, nothing but red rock, dust and, now the corpses of several Autobots and Decepticons.

Why had the Decepticons engaged his group in battle here? There was no particular reason for it other than to destroy the enemy. The Decepticons had ambushed them and had damaged the Autobots' ship so severely that it had crashlanded on this nearby planet. Thanks to their leaders brilliant tactics all of the Autobots had made it there in one piece, not knowing that a second group of Decepticons awaited them. But why had his leader decided to leave Thunderbolt here, as far from the action as possible? Was it because Thunderbolt was so young, almost still a youngling who had barely come of age? Or was it because, due to his tender age, he was still very inexperienced in battle? But on the other hand, war didn't wait for anyone to mature. Or was it because he was not the biggest example of his species – slightly taller than the famed First Lieutenant Jazz of Prime's personal squad – and therefore not as well equipped with cannons and missiles as the bigger mechs were. Well, to a Cybertronian size should not matter, there were plenty of stories about mechs who were on the short side and young and still proved triumphant in battle like Bumblebee at Tyger Pax. And besides, despite the lack of penetrating power of most of his weapons, they were still lethal to any opponent if needs be. Thunderbolt had tried to ignore the war for as long as possible. He had been unwilling to be equipped with weaponry and had refused to train with them. He had desperately clung to the hope that this impending war was just a rumor and that things would settle down again. But ultimately war had found him, whether Thunderbolt had been ready for it or not.

Nevertheless, all this ruminating proved useless in answering the one question that bothered Thunderbolt the most: why for Primus' sake had his leader told him to stay here and keep quiet until his unit came back? Thunderbolt hated to be left behind no matter what the reason may have been. Admittedly, he wasn't the most exuberant soldier to go off and shoot Decepticons, but he knew for a fact that other Autobot soldiers shared the same reluctance as him and they weren't ever told to stay back. Thunderbolt may not have been as eager to go to war as some of his friends had been, but in the end none of them had much of a choice. With Cybertron destroyed he had only had the choices to fight along with the Autobots, or get killed by the Decepticons. So the choice had actually been relatively easy. Dealing with the consequences of said choice was the hard part.

Another missile hit not too far from where Thunderbolt lay, disturbing his thoughts by sending a rain of splintered rock and debris in his direction that landed clattering on his armor. The young mech darted behind the crest again. Then suddenly everything became very quiet, an eerie silence settling heavily on the battlefield like a death shroud. Thunderbolt didn't dare to move until another few breems had passed and the distant detonations from the other groups of combatants had eventually died down. He got up slowly and glanced around, always expecting to be struck by another missile or to be torn to shreds by some lurking Decepticon. But the attack never came. In fact, none of the horrible death scenarios Thunderbolt had imagined for himself when his unit had entered this battle came true … at least not to him. The eerie silence was broken by a howling wind that rose and blew the clouds of dust and smoke away to reveal the whole extent of the tragedy that had occurred.

None of his comrades had survived. From where he stood atop the small hill, Thunderbolt could overlook the plain where the battle had taken place. All of his crewmembers, superiors, and friends had been brutally slaughtered by the Decepticons. Their bodies lay scattered across the plain; armor cracked, limbs severed, vital parts strewn across the ground, and the remainder of their bodies riddled with gaping holes still smoldering from where the missiles had struck. He quickly ran a scan to make sure there were no more Decepticons, at least no living ones. Then he stumbled down the hill in a daze, hoping against all odds that some Autobots might have survived the massacre.

All hopes proved in vain. As he walked cautiously across the plain, his scanners searched desperately for even the slightest sign of life from the heaps of scrap metal but found none. Most of the bodies were so severely damaged they were barely recognizable. Thunderbolt stood in shock when he realized that the miserable bot that lay stretched out before him had once been his leader. Backslash lay on his side, weapons still drawn and smoking. A shimmering oily substance trickled from numerous small ragged holes that several grenades had torn into his armor. But these injuries hadn't dealt him the final blow.

Upon closer inspection, Thunderbolt noticed that half of Backslash's faceguard was missing and the vital circuitry beneath the armor was laid bare. Important components had been torn away, wires clipped, and processors blown up. What remained of Backslash's face was scorched and sooty, his armor was covered in the planet's fine red dust that was made muddy from expelled lubricants. Thunderbolt was shocked at the fragility of the body that had once been his powerful leader. Backslash, the bot who always seemed so calm and collected when in charge of his crew, the one who was so fierce and merciless in battle, the one bot Thunderbolt had trusted his life with…had been permanently deactivated.

Long moments passed and Thunderbolt could only stand and stare at the corpse of his fallen leader. The icy wind howled in a high pitched whine across the deserted plain and tore at the bodies of the Cybertronians, Autobot and Decepticon alike. All of a sudden Thunderbolt felt very alone. A cold feeling invaded his spark and held on to it like a giant iron fist. The brutality of the scene left the lone survivor speechless. As realization gradually sank in, he felt benumbed and nauseous. Here he was, stranded on a deserted planet without knowing if there were any Decepticons lurking. If the Decepticons were still around he hoped that they were regrouping nowhere near his position to get back to their ships. He had no ship, no crew and no idea what to do or where to go to.

Thunderbolt gave a start as, out of nowhere, there was a rustle of static as a comlink was established.

"Is there anyone alive out there? My designation is Nova. This frequency is safe. If you can hear me, please answer," came the slightly shaken voice of a femme.


End file.
